Lost, Mislaid, Misplaced But not Dead!
by CJtheCregg
Summary: When Rose disappears after Doomsday, there's only two people left in her dimension of Earth, that know what she was really doing, and who she was with. Sarah Jane Smith, and Captain Jack Harkness. It's up to the Doctor, to tell them how he lost her.Or not
1. Chapter 1

**Lost, Mislaid, Misplaced.**

**Disclaimer: Ain't mine.  
Rating: Ehhh... PG-13? Wait, I mean uhhh K? **

_When Rose disappears after Doomsday, there's only two people left in her dimension of Earth, that know what she was really doing, and who she was with. Sarah Jane Smith, and Captain Jack Harkness. It's up to the Doctor, to tell them how he lost her.(or not tell them, as the case may be)_

The Doctor could have been sulking, pouting, whining, and generally moping, in the misery of losing Rose. (And yes, it did hurt. Not as much as accidentally blowing up Gallifrey – turned out, he hadn't actually meant to do that. Opps. - but it was pretty damn close.)

'Technically,' he thought, 'I haven't actually lost her. Well, ok yes. I did lose her. In the general sense of the word. Misplaced. Mislaid. Quite possibly lost… but on the bright side of things, she isn't dead……'

There were only two people on Earth, in Rose's universe, and in her time, that knew where she'd been, and who she'd been with. So out of kindness to humanity, being a good natured citizen and all that hoopla, the Doctor thought it might be decent of him to inform them of the recent non-fatal demise of Rose.

One was Jack ('Ohh that was going to be fun.') and the other was Sarah Jane. ('Not particularly looking forward to that either,' the Doctor mused.).

Unfortunately, instead of actually going to inform them, of the latest misplacement of one Rose Tyler, the Doctor was instead, trying to think of more than three words to describe the act of losing a person. In the technical sense, not the deader than a doorknob sense. (Or was it door nail?)

'Really,' he thought, although he was glad Rose was alive, (Because he really did love her madly. Passionately. Deeply. Desperately.) it was almost unfortunate that she hadn't died. Because he could think of at least 9 different idioms for being dead. Pushing up the daisies. Meeting your maker. Stone dead. Feeding the worms. Nail in the coffin. Bite the dust. Breathe your last. Dead and buried. Given up the ghost. Actually, ten, if you counted deader than a doorknob. And if the doornail one was real, then that made eleven…. Though, he'd rather stick to ten. He really quite liked that number.

So all in all, it would have been in everyone's best interests if she'd died, instead of inconveniently deciding to go and get sucked off into a parallel universe.

He really wanted to kick a door, or punch a wall right now.

And what the hell was he supposed to say to Jack?

'Jack! I'm SO sorry we abandoned you to your possible death up there on that space station, but I was being selfish, and wanted to regenerate in the comfort of my TARDIS…. Yes, we really should have come back for you, but oh well! Here I am now. Speaking of which, I lost Rose.'

Ridiculous. It was like admitting to the person you were dog sitting for (not that he'd EVER done any dog sitting. Ever.) that you'd accidentally misplaced (Lost. Mislaid.) their precious pet poodle. (It wasn't his fault that the dog had seen another poodle and gone off to have copious amounts of dog sex, and he couldn't handle the thought of having to walk in on that. And really! Who puts a time lord in charge of a dog? Preposterous.)

And Sarah Jane. That could only end badly. She'd slap him. He just _knew_, that she'd slap him. It was one thing to leave a companion behind… but to actually lose (Misplace. Mislay) one? Unacceptable. It was like losing your wallet. Except much much worse.

Or like losing your baby. That was definitely something he could say he'd never done. (Except that one time back on Gallifrey, when he'd been looking after his infant son, and accidentally misplaced (Lost. Mislaid) him in the food market. Technically, not his fault.)

And he'd found him. He couldn't find Rose. Well, technically, yes he could. Because he knew where she was. It was more a matter of not being able to actually get there. Damn technicalities.

Oh, Jack was going to KILL him. He'd always had a soft spot for Rose (The Doctor had several suspicions about what Jack really wanted, and they all involved some form of throwing Rose up against a wall and having vast amounts of sex. But he refused to think about that, because luckily, he'd lost Rose, so Jack wouldn't be getting any.)

Maybe if he sent him a letter. People wrote letters all the time giving bad news. It was a little harsh… but that couldn't be helped. Yes, a letter would work.

_Dear Jack._

_I'm sorry we left you behind. It was unkind, cruel, and completely unnecessary (except for the part where I needed you to rebuild the world, etc etc.). _

_If I'd been thinking straight (which I wasn't, as I'd just kissed Rose – GO ME!) I might have considered how it would affect you, and your self esteem. I hope that we didn't damage your ego too much. (And if we did, well it was pretty big to start with, so you should be ok.)_

_I'm writing to you, because I have to give you some terrible (unfortunate) news. _

_I might possibly (just maybe) have irretrievably misplaced (Lost. Mislaid.) Rose._

_If you know of a way, or find a way for me (or you, as long as you give her back) to get to a parallel universe, could you please let me know, as even though I'm a brilliant, genius time lord, I'm a little bit stumped on this one._

_Anyway, have a nice day, and I hope to see you again soon._

_All my love (but not the dirty kind, not matter what anyone says),_

_The Doctor._

_P.S. If I do see you again, I feel that it's my duty to inform you that I have regenerated, and I look completely different. So if you look too angry upon seeing the TARDIS appear, I may pretend to not be the Doctor. _

See? That would work. And he could just avoid the 21st century for a few decades, and hopefully Jack would never catch up with him to kill (Maim. Mutilate. Slaughter. Execute. Destroy. Exterminate. Eradicate.) him.

Now, if only telling Sarah Jane was as easy.

'Girls,' the Doctor thought, 'are more trouble than they're worth.' (Except Rose. Because she was perfect. Even more perfect now that she was gone (Lost. Mislaid. Misplaced.) and wasn't cluttering the console room with makeup and shoes.)

A letter wasn't going to cut it with Sarah Jane. No, she'd say that a letter was an inadequate and wimpy way to tell someone bad news. Of course, she probably wouldn't use the word wimpy…. But that was all that the Doctor could think of on the spot.

Actually, the mere thought of having to go and tell Sarah Jane that he'd lost (Misplaced. Mislaid.) Rose, was enough to make him want to try to find her again. Add to that, the fact that he probably couldn't tell Jack in a letter, and would therefore have to go and tell him too… and the Doctor was definitely on his way to coming up with some kind of brilliantly genius plan to rescue Rose, and in turn, save the universe from the possible demise of the only Time Lord still in existence.

He was also pretty sure that this would make for a great storyline in some kind of TV show. '_Save the blonde companion. Save the World._' Not that that had much flow to it. 'If only Rose had been a cheerleader.'

So. What to do. What to do, what to do, what to do.

'Oh!' the Doctor exclaimed to himself, in his own mind, as he'd just recently discovered the joys of talking to oneself. 'Oh! I could ask Jack! Jack might know…. Oh.'

That was when he remembered the various ways of regeneration that Jack might force upon him, if he told him that he'd inadvertently lost (Mislaid. Misplaced.) Rose….

Thank GOD he didn't have to tell Jackie. That was all he had to say on the matter. Except that he'd really quite like to rescue Rose, and throw her against a wall and have his sweet way with her… (thinking about Jack's previously possible plans with Rose, had given the Doctor some plans of his own. With Rose, not Jack, because the Doctor didn't care how many loonies out there on the internet thought that he should screw Jack, it just wasn't going to happen. Unless he couldn't get Rose back. Then, he might consider it. Might.)

And then, suddenly, quite without warning, the Doctor had an idea.

It wasn't just any idea… it certainly wasn't a plain, old, boring idea. Ohhhh no. No, THIS, was the idea to out-idea all other ideas. This was brilliant. Magnificent. Fantastic. Outstanding. Superb. Excellent. Marvelous. Undeniably, the most excellent scheme that the Doctor had ever thought of.

So he picked up a banana, and sat back down to eat it. After all, bananas contained high quantities of potassium. And what good was potassium, if not for thinking of ways to save Rose, save the world, and hopefully, save himself from a painful death/regeneration at the hands of Girlfriend Stealing Whore Jack, as the Doctor had now named him.

The Banana, the Doctor assured himself, would save the day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Lost, Mislaid, Misplaced… but not Dead!  
**Author:** jaceyangel  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing:** Rose/Tenth Doctor  
**Disclaimer:** Nothing in this is mine. Not even the words. They belong to the Oxford English Dictionary. Or DO they? I only own the way in which I put all those words together.  
**Notes:** It's crack. It's really really, just crack. It's terrible, but to me, highly amusing. Hopefully you all find it as amusing as I do at… 2am.

One banana, the Doctor decided, just wasn't going to cut it. He'd have to eat two. If it meant saving Rose, saving himself, and ultimately saving the universe (because after all, that's what really mattered), the Doctor was willing to force himself to eat two bananas.

After two bananas, the Doctor realized that it was going to take at least two more. So he took a trip to the Banana Groves at Vilengard, where he traded a very nice looking sonic hammer for a wheelbarrow full of bananas. (It wasn't until two months later that the Doctor realized that that was in fact how the Banana Groves at Vilengard once again became a sonic weapons factory…. And after all his hard work growing those bananas after the first time he blew it up. Oh well. He'd soon fix that problem. Just as soon as he's saved Rose, himself and the universe.)

After six bananas, the Doctor had come to the ultimate decision, that Girlfriend Stealing Whore Jack was going to have to kill him. Because there was no possible way that he could save Rose from the horrors of the parallel world, without either ripping a hole in all of time and space, or telling Jack and getting him to help. And really, the Doctor decided, it was much more manly and macho to tell Jack that he'd lose (mislaid, misplaced) Rose, that it was to turn up begging for help.

So, he decided, he was willing to die for the greater cause. Until he remembered the greater plan. Which was to save Rose, himself, and ultimately the universe. At that point, the Doctor resolutely made the decision, that Girlfriend Stealing Whore Jack, was not going to kill him. Nor was he getting any kind of against the wall action with Rose. That, was the Doctors job.

By the time he had consumed one to many bananas (there was, after all, such thing as potassium overdose – final count 69), the Doctor sat down with his sparkly pen, and pink Hello Kitty pad. (And no, he was most certainly not gay. He just liked sparkly things. And cats with no noses. They were the next best thing to dogs with no noses…. and since no one on Barcelona had been smart enough to market stationary, the cats would have to do.) A month later, the Doctor realized that he'd been ripped off by some cheap, black market version of Hello Kitty. Because the real Hello Kitty had a nose.

During his SST (sustained silent thinking) session, the Doctor had had two marvelous (if he did say so himself) brainwaves. The first, might need a little more thought, and was quite possibly the riskiest (imploding world, universe, all of creation etc etc..), but it had potential. And substance. The Doctor felt that substance was the essence of a good (Spectacular. Fantastic. Extraordinary.) plan.

Leaning over his Hello Kitty (now known as Bogus Kitty) paper, the Doctor poised his sparkly pen, twirled a strand of hair around one finger, and stuck his tongue out slightly. There. All ready for CWT (concentrated writing time).

Slowly and carefully (because one didn't want to rush such important things), the Doctor wrote his title, in his best, and prettiest cursive.

'**The Doctor's Brilliant Plan A for Un-losing/Mislaying/Misplacing Rose Tyler.'**

There. That was a good…. No, GREAT start, to his plan.

He paused, and still twirling his hair, he scrunched up his nose, and wiggled an eyebrow.

'**Step One.'**

He scrunched up his nose slightly…. frowned, and bit his lip.

'**Step One of my Brilliant Plan.'**

'_Open up a voidy hole thing in between the two universes, and go through the void in my magical space ship (see: TARDIS), and rescue Rose from unknown horrors.'_

There were a few minor errors in this step of the plan… namely, the universe imploding when he tried to perform this step by himself. 'If only,' he thought. 'If only, I had another time lord.'

The Doctor sighed, and then smiled his craziest grin. 'No worries.' He'd skip that part, and move onto the better, more exciting stuff.

'**Step Two of my Brilliant Plan.'**

'_Having rescued Rose, and therefore having saved the world, screw like bunnies until we can screw no more. Then eat bananas because potassium gives energy, and screw some more using said energy.'_

The Doctor stopped. The Doctor stared. The Doctor, had had another brainwave. And this wasn't like his other brainwaves. No, no. This, this was a brilliant (Fantastic! Magnificent. Tremendous.) brainwave.

He needed another time lord, in order to open a vortex like hole through the void, and into the parallel universe. All he had to do, was knock someone up, and then go back (or was it forward?) and get the baby in… ohhhh… 15 years? Fifteen was definitely old enough to go off with your old man and save the world, right?

Granted, there were some small faults in this plan. (Not unlike the other plan.) But the Doctor, being who he was (Genius and all.) was sure he could iron those out.

So, all he had to do now, was find someone willing to be an incubator, for the savior of the world. Well… savior was a little too important a title. HE was the savior. His kid could be… second most important person after him. Or after Rose. So third. Wait, no, after Jack. Fourth. Ohhhh. The Doctor winced. And probably after all his other companions. He frowned. That was far too difficult a task. He couldn't possibly count all of his past companions.

It probably wasn't a good sign that his future child (savior of the world, universe, galaxy… and Rose) wasn't going to be at least the second most important person in his life. In fact, maybe it wasn't such a brilliant idea after all.

The Doctor, was starting to think, that perhaps he needed to rework his plan altogether. Maybe. Possibly.

So, the Doctor paced. The Doctor hopped. The Doctor skipped. The Doctor, paced, hopped and skipped from one side of the TARDIS console room, to the other. And then? He did it again.

The Doctor, it seemed, was stumped. For the first time in his life (Ok, not the first, but who's counting?), he didn't know what to do. Other than the obvious plan of visiting Jack, and asking him to help.

That was it! The Doctor was ecstatic. The Doctor was joyous. The Doctor, had a plan.

The Doctor, was going to see Girlfriend Stealing Whore Jack.

(And if Jack was too mad, or angry, or violently inclined, the Doctor would go back to Plan A when it came to GSWJack, and he'd pretend he wasn't the Doctor.)


	3. Chapter 3

Lost, Mislaid, Misplaced... but not Dead! Part 3.  
PG13 crack. Pure, shameless crack.  
Not finished. Part One can be found here or here and part two here

Title: Lost, Mislaid, Misplaced… but not Dead!  
Author: jaceyangel  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: Rose/Tenth Doctor  
Disclaimer: Nothing in this is mine. Not even the words. They belong to the Oxford English Dictionary. Or DO they? I only own the way in which I put all those words together.  
Notes: It's crack. It's really really, just crack. It's terrible, but to me, highly amusing. Hopefully you all find it as amusing as I did when I started writing it... like 2+ years ago. Now that I'm a *real* teacher, I have no time for writing... so it is at 11.20pm on a Thursday night (late for me!) after parent/teacher interviews, that I finally get around to tackling part 3 of my epic crack fic.

The Doctor had a plan.

Jack, was his plan. The Doctor frowned. Or rather, Girlfriend Stealing Whore Jack was the plan. The Doctor hoped that he wasn't going to have to kill Jack for being a Girlfriend Stealing Whore, because Jack was quite important to his overall plan. (That is, Jack was THE plan, and that's as far as he'd gotten with the plan so far.)

The Doctor was also quite hopeful that Jack wasn't going to kill him. Because even though he could think up ten idioms for being dead (he'd nixed the deader than a doorknob because he didn't really like the word knob…) he wasn't keen to demonstrate any of those right now. He was however rather pleased that he was back to ten from eleven, because eleven as a number made him rather anxious, and caused him to sweat profusely. He'd contemplate the reasoning's behind this later on. After he'd saved Rose, himself and the universe.

So, The Doctor set course in his trusty spaceship (or was it time and space ship.. hmmm. That really didn't have the same ring to it as spaceship did, but The Doctor wasn't too concerned. He'd add that to the list of 'Things that Confuse Me', to figure out after he'd gotten Rose back, and screwed her against the wall. Or on a bed. Or a chair. Or the floor even. The Doctor really wasn't picky, as long as it involved Rose.)

But then… the Doctor stopped. The Doctor paused. The Doctor, had had another fantastic, brilliant… one of a kind, idea. He couldn't go back and knock up a random stranger (after all, what would Rose say about that?)… but WHAT IF, he went back in time to when Rose was traveling with his past self, and he knocked her up, and then went forward in time, collected the baby, wiped Rose's and his past self's memories, handed the baby over to Jack to raise for about 15 years, and then went and got and got it (because who knew if it'd be a boy or a girl) and it would help him save Rose, who was, coincidentally, it's mother.

Brilliant!

And that, the Doctor told himself, was why he was the guy with the plans. He was the plan man.

Maybe, he considered, he should change his name. Almost 1000 years as 'The Doctor' was becoming a little tiresome…. Perhaps, he should become 'The Plan Man!' Or not.

The Doctor appreciated a good cup of tea just as much as any other man (alien?), but really! Emptying the contents of a perfectly good mug of Earl Grey down the front of someone's shirt was a little bit too close to tea abuse for a man to be pleased about.

Granted, Jack (the girlfriend stealing whore that he was) had every reason to be annoyed. If the Doctor were in Jacks shoes, he'd be annoyed too. (And uncomfortable.)  
Furious even. Jack had every right to be furious. The Doctor would be. Honestly. But he was pretty certain that he wouldn't have thrown a cup of tea at himself. (Obviously, because it was actually rather difficult to _throw_ a cup of anything at oneself, unless cloning was involved. And that was a messy process, and never ended well.)

Jack looked... well, furious. 'You bloody idiot! Of all the insane, reckless, self centred things to do, you do... that!'  
The empty cup was dangling uselessly from one hand, and the other was waving wildly in the air while Jack angrily (furiously) shouted insults towards the Doctor. (Who was hiding behind the TARDIS.) Said TARDIS was parked rather haphazardly on top of Jack's favourite gun. (Vintage Winchester, circa late 1860's... or so The Doctor thought, after having had a quick glance at the squashed barral poking out from under the edge of the blue box.)

The Doctor carefully poked his head out from behind the TARDIS, and offered a weak 'Sorry'. A fine bone china teacup came flying towards him, and narrowly missed slicing an ear off. (It was all very well to wander around rambling to oneself in syphilis induced madness while missing an ear, if one could paint masterpieces like Starry Night, - _mid thought,t he Doctor mused that he'd have to go and visit Vincent sometime soon... _- but it was another to be the Last Time Lord, and hop through the galaxy looking like a prat because an angry anything-sexual time agent had de-eared you in a fit of rage.)

'You moron!' Jack raged. 'You bloody moron! That was my favourite gun! That was an original Winchester Yellow Boy! Christ! That thing has managed to stay in one piece since 1866 (The Doctor cheered internally ... his guess had been pretty accurate.) and was used at The Battle of Lincoln. You can't buy that kind of history. ' he paused. 'You have to steal it. And that wasn't easy'

The Doctor winced. Perhaps he'd started the visit of font he wrong foot. He hopped lightly from one foot to the other, trying to figure out which foot would be the best to put forward next.

Slowly, he eased his right foot out from behind the TARDIS, and then drew it back at triple speed as a matching plate came hurtling past with the same near accuracy that the cup trajectory had had.

'Jaaaaack.'The Doctor said with what he considered his best Time Lord Voice of Doom. (A combination of impatience, warning and frustration.) 'You're pushing it.' He paused. 'I need to talk to you. It's serious.'

'Well I'm serious about the part where your big blue box landed on my favourite gun!' Jack yelled back.

'Jack! Rose is...'

'Oh, I know all ABOUT your little incident, about your plan... about Plan B too Doctor!' Jack shouted back at him. 'And don't even think about trying to talk your way out of loosing Rose!'

The Doctor shuffled from one foot to the to the other again, and tried to think of exactly the right thing to say in this kind of situation. 'Weeeeeeeeeeellll... on the BRIGHT side, she's not dead!' he stated.

'But she's not exactly here, either... is she Doctor?' Jack spat back.

'Um.. No. But I have a plan!' The Doctor replied excitedly, gingerly poking his head around the side of the TARDIS again. All clear. Carefully, he edged his neck... shoulder... arm... upper torso... leg... around the corner, until he was standing in front of Jack. (At a reasonable distance mind you... after all, you couldn't trust a Time Agent (let alone a Girlfriend Stealing Whore of a Time Agent) when they were in this kind of mood.

Jack sighed, and flopped down into a nearby computer chair. 'Yes Doctor, I've heard the plan. I've heard the plan, seen the detailed timeline you drew up, and watched the video presentation on you tube. '

At that moment, a man, walking backwards stumbled into the room, carrying a file box in his arms, and a folder between his teeth. 'Ack, I'fe found da bothes you athed me to det.' He said through a mouthful of paper.' Turning, the man saw the Doctor standing there, spat out the file in his mouth (which resulted in a rather soggy pile of papers on the floor), and almost dropped the box. 'Oops.' He stated. 'Hmmm. Mind wipe? Agree to forget? I'm never quite sure what is appropriate in these situations... which would probably indicate that a mind wipe is what has previously been used. Jack, aren't you going to introduce us?' the man asked, while staring curiously at the Doctor.

Jack, cleared his throat. 'Uhh. Doctor, meet...'

To be continued.

No, really. I promise.


End file.
